I came through my third Christmas just fine. Santa brought me some new furry toy mice with feathery tails. I stalk them, grab them in my teeth and shake hard. Then I drop their lifeless bodies into my water dish. Frannie doesn't like me to do that.
"TomCat, those mice are expensive. Keep them dry," she yells at me.
Frannie fed me extra servings of Fancy Feast Gourmet Cat Food over the Christmas weekend, probably because she felt guilty. She was out making merry for hours at a time, leaving me all by myself. I think I've put on some weight. When I sit on the window sill, my butt hangs over the edge and I have to be careful I don't topple off.
January is one of my favorite months. That white stuff is falling from the sky again and everything is covered with a fluffy coating. It looks like icing on a cake, so cool, swirling and beautiful. Frannie is mumbling as we both look out the window. She will have to scrape off the car in the morning if she wants to go anywhere. She is not happy. But I, TomCat, love the snow. It keeps Frannie home with me and it's fun to see automobiles spinning their wheels. I especially like to watch the big snowplow come through. Children are bundled up against the cold as they make a snowman. I even saw a squirrel skittering by, sliding on the slick pavement, trying to remember where he buried his acorns.
The living room is nice and warm as I look out the window at the new-fallen snow. We sure do live a peaceful life. Well, anyway, I do. Frannie's life is not so peaceful. She's always rushing off somewhere, doing something. That's why I try to be a good cat. When she comes home, I greet her at the door and rub against her ankles. I let her relax on my recliner and we take a nap together. I think I make her life very worthwhile.
"Darn cat," she's yelling again. "Get down off the kitchen table. I have friends coming for dinner. What are they going to think when they see a cat on the kitchen table?"
I really don't think anyone will care if I'm on the kitchen table, but I'll try to remember to stay off. I've got to keep Frannie happy. She feeds me.
I like January. The window is cold when I press my nose against the glass, but the room is cozy and warm. Frannie spends more time at home, letting me use her nice warm body as a resting place. So let the cold winds blow and let the snow pile up. She makes hot cocoa and I manage to take a sniff before she starts yelling again.
"TomCat, you're going to burn your nose. Get away from my hot cocoa, you darn cat," she shouts.
She goes to the computer, plays some silly games and "chats" with friends. I stand in front of the screen, staring into her eyes. She pushes me aside. I don't like the computer. I go right back and stand in front of the screen again. Frannie refuses to look at me. She pushes me harder and I fall onto the keyboard.
The best part of the day is when she finally goes to bed. She is snuggled under the down comforter and I stretch out on top of the covers, across her belly or her butt (depending on whether she's face up or face down). We are a happy pair.
Hmmm, I hope she remembered to buy enough Fancy Feast in case we really get snowed in. I told her the Savory Salmon is my favorite.
Watch these pages for more poems by Frannie.
In the meantime, click the links below for other poems and stories by the authors at Lara's Den.
Man's Best Friend
Taste Of Winter
A Nickle Short
And.......for many others, click the index image.
Frannie (Frannie516@aol.com) is TomCat's personal photographer.